Sometimes People Come Back
by Northern-Southern Belle
Summary: Milah gets her redemptive reunion with Neal. (With bonus Rumplestiltskin!) One-shot.


Disclaimer: Only the plot and any original characters belong to me.

It had been hard for her to step into the light, even though Rumple had assured her that wherever she landed, Baelfire would be on the other side to forgive her. He was always so good to her, even when she'd treated him badly. Well, except for when he'd murdered her, of course. But he seemed to have come back to his old self.

But now the light was gone and Milah found herself at the end of a sunny street, standing in front of a big white house with a white picket fence and a dog in the yard. She looked in the open window and saw a young man who she assumed was her son laughing and smiling at something. He'd gotten so big. Grown into a fine young man. No thanks to her, of course. It was good he'd done it in spite of her.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door and waited, her eyes closed tight as she rehearsed what she was going to say to him in her head that would make him forgive what she'd done.

Then she heard the door open and a "Hello?"

She opened her eyes again and stared at him for a long moment.

"Yes?" He asked. "What can I do for you?"

"Can I…can I come in, Baelfire?" She asked. "I…I wanna talk."

"I thought you would when I saw you next," he nodded. "Come in. There are some things I want to get off my chest to you as well."

"I thought you would when I saw you next," Milah nodded. She followed him to the living room, noting several pictures on the wall. "You draw," she said. "Are…are all these yours?"

"Some of them," Neal replied without looking at her. "Not all of them, though."

"I draw too, you know," Milah told him. "You probably got it from me."

He gestured at a cream-colored sofa as a collie strode into the room through the half open door and sat down on the floor beside him.

"Who's this?" Milah asked reaching out to pet the dog before sitting down.

"His name is Lucky," Neal told her. "Collies are extremely loyal dogs, you know. They don't just get up and leave because their lives aren't ideal."

"And here we go," Milah sighed.

"No," Neal shook his head. "Don't you act like that. Don't act like my being angry that you left is some big problem that I should never bring up. Just don't. Why did you leave? Tell me and don't lie! Tell me why you left a little boy who loved and needed you."

"I should think it would be obvious," Milah told him, still avoiding his gaze. "Don't you remember your childhood? How miserable and poor we were? How everyone looked down on us because your father was the village coward?"

"And I bet you think that was the only reason people looked down on us," Neal told her and scoffed. "It was just because of Papa and had _nothing_ to do with the fact that you left me alone most nights to spend time with men at the tavern."

"You remember that?" Milah asked quietly, bringing her eyes up to look at him now. "I had hoped you wouldn't."

"Believe me, I would be happy not to," Neal replied. "But it's really hard being a kid and going into a bar with your father, watching him beg your mother to come home and take care of you, and then hearing that she won't because she loves herself more than she loves you."

"I knew you'd feel that way and that's why I left!" Milah replied. "I knew that I couldn't be the mother you wanted or deserved because the whole idea made me feel smothered. Being stuck in one place for the rest of my life, poor, reviled, no chance to take a break at all. No one should have to live like that. That's why I took off when I did. And you had your father to care for you. It's not like I left you alone again. You were left in good hands."

"And that was how you justified it to yourself," Neal told her. "You thought that since you were leaving me with my father and we were close, that made it okay for you to leave without even telling me goodbye and then never even let me know where you were or that you were okay? The closest thing I ever had to an answer about what happened to you was that Papa told me you were killed by pirates. I found out later that wasn't exactly the truth, but it was a comfort for a while. Better than knowing that you just ran off. And I…I know what you mean when you said life was difficult. I was the one who had to deal with what Papa was like when he killed you. I had to deal with a man who was so afraid of being abandoned after what you did to him, and what his father did to him that he just…he wouldn't let me go anywhere. Not even to make some friends a few houses over. He always told me it was because he thought his enemies would get me, but I knew it wasn't true. I know you were miserable, and congratulations on getting to leave, but when you were gone, I took your place. I was left with a house to run and Papa to take care of and deal with. And while it wasn't horrible, because I, unlike you, could see good in even the darkest situations, at least for a while, it would have been better if I would have grown up with both my parents. Or if you'd at least had the courage to leave before things got really bad between you two and had taken time to tell me goodbye and that it wasn't my fault."

This gave Milah pause. "What on earth would make you think that what was going on between your father and me had anything to do with you?"

Neal sighed. "Remember that bright blue vase we had? It was the nicest thing we owned and one day when I was playing, I broke it. I'd never seen you so mad before in my life!"

"Yes, but that wasn't about you!" Milah told him, reaching out to give him a hug as he leaned out of her reach. "That was just a vase! Sure I loved it, but it was a _thing_! There were so many other more problematic things in my life besides that."

"I didn't know that," Neal told her. "I was just a kid. All I knew was that I broke it in the morning and then, to get away from you and Papa's fighting, I went to visit the potter down the street and he helped me make a new one for you. I thought that if I brought it home to you and you saw it, you wouldn't be mad anymore. But…but when I came back, you were gone. There was no one in the house. And when Papa finally came back, he told me that you'd been murdered by pirates who'd taken you away."

"And I…I thank him for that," Milah said. "He always made me seem a lot better than I deserved." She paused. "I'm sorry, Baelfire. I know that what I did hurt you. That it made you have a life that was just as bad as the one I left behind. I would have taken you, but I didn't think it was good for a small child to be among pirates. I talked to Killian, though, and he said-"

"That you'd planned on coming back for me when I was a little older," Neal finished. "Yeah, I know. He told me that when he brought me on his ship and we went to Neverland together."

"You met Killian?" Milah asked. "Well, I hope he was good to you."

"He tried," Neal conceded. "Taught me how to steer a boat and all. But as usual, it all went wrong and we parted ways on not-so-good terms. We met again later and cleared the air, but like with most of my relationships, I have to have lots of bad blood with people first."

"Well, what a shame," Milah sighed. "I always thought we could have made a nice little family." She then said, "I can't say enough how sorry I am for leaving you. I thought I was making the right choice at the time, and I am so proud of you for growing up as well as you did. And even though I know nothing I can say or do will make up for the past, I wonder if maybe we can't make a new start? Would…would you like that?"

"Thank you," Neal told her and gave her a small smile, Then he said, "I _would_ like that. I still have that vase. Since you're here now, do you want it?"

Milah's jaw dropped a little. "You still have it after all these years? Why would you keep something like that?"

"Well, you never know," Neal replied. "People come back, right? I'll be back in a minute. If you want something from the kitchen, please, help yourself."

Milah got up to root around the refrigerator and when she heard Neal's voice, she put down the banana she was eating and went to join him.

"Here it is," he said, holding up a small, very misshapen thing that she assumed was the pot. It was covered in faded blue paint.

She took it and burst into laughter. "I-I love it," she got out. "It's…the most interesting thing I've ever seen, but I love it."

"Are you sure?" Neal reached out to take it back. "Cause you don't have to keep it if you don't want it."

"Not on your life," Milah shook her head and put it in one of the deep pockets in her outfit. "It's not leaving me."

"Thanks," Neal told her.

"Baelfire, I know I have no room to ask you for anything, but I just…I want one more thing from you and that will be the end of it for now," she said.

"Okay," Neal nodded. "What is it?"

"Can I have a hug?" She asked.

"Yeah," Neal nodded, first hesitantly putting his arms around her and then really squeezing her as hard as she was squeezing him. And then, as they pulled apart, she gasped.

"What?" Neal questioned. "Is there something wrong?"

"No," Milah shook her head. "It's just that…I promised your father I would tell you that he says 'Hello'."

Neal smiled. "Good. Good, I…I'm glad he hasn't forgotten about me."

"Well, I don't think he could," Milah told him. "After all he went through you were probably the only good thing in his life." She paused. "I just wish there was some way we could let him know."

"I think I know one," Neal told her. "Come on. And after that, we can have a drink."

Milah smiled. "You know, maybe if we'd had a drink back then, we could have worked things out a lot sooner."

"I was seven when you left," Neal reminded her.

"True," Milah conceded. "And now you know why I don't think much of myself as a mother."

"You did the best you could under the circumstances," Neal said. "No one could fault you for that."

* * *

 _That night, Rumplestiltskin had a dream. He stood in front of a big white house with a picket fence. He didn't know the house. He'd never seen it before, but something told him that he was wanted there. He went and he knocked on the door just as he heard a bark beside him. He looked down to see an eager collie, who butted his good leg with its nose. Then the door opened, and Baelfire stood in front of him, looking just as good as he remembered._

" _Hello, Papa," he said. "You wanna come in?"_

" _Yes," Rumple nodded, feeling himself tear up. "Yes, son. I would love to." He stepped inside the nice, big (very neat and tasteful, he noted with pride) house and paused when he saw Milah sitting on the sofa. "You found him," he said. "And he seems to have forgiven you. Didn't I tell you he would?"_

" _You did," Milah nodded with a smile and patted the empty seat on the sofa beside her. "Come and sit next to me."_

" _How did I get here?" Rumple asked._

" _We just…we talked it over and we wanted to let you know that we were both at peace," Neal replied and sat down on Rumple's other side. "Thanks. Thanks for bringing us back together."_

" _You're welcome," Rumple told him as he embraced his son again, tears flowing freely from their eyes. "And I'm…I'm so glad I got to see you one more time."_

" _Me too, Papa," Neal replied. "Me too."_

 _Milah sat back and watched until Rumple let her into the hug too, and for a moment, a long overdue moment that might never happen again, Neal and his parents were all finally at peace._

 **The End.**


End file.
